Who knew?
by huntinglily
Summary: Drunk and alone in a hotel room, a certain blonde accidentally lets it slip that she's got her eye on a certain Broadway diva, and Santana takes it into her hands to help bring out the new Miss Quinn Fab-g-a-y. Who knew a simply kiss would lead to what it does? Quinntana, with mentions of Faberry and Brittana. Rated M for later chapters.


Holiday Inn Hotel Room Number 115 was greeted with giggles and slurs as a pair of girls stumbled through the door around one in the morning. High heels were kicked off, purses dropped to the floor, and jackets were flung on chairs as a very drunk Quinn Fabray threw herself onto one of the beds, and an equally drunk Santana Lopez collapsed onto the other.

"That was sooooo much fun," sighed Quinn, as she stretched out on the bed. Losing balance, she shrieked as she rolled off the bed and onto the carpeted floor. The fall sent Santana into a fit of giggles, as Quinn grumbled and climbed back on the bed.

As the Latina's laughter died down, she wiped tears from her eyes as she grinned at her blonde companion. "Sorry Q, that was too good," she apologized, almost laughing again. "But you're right, that was such a blast. I've snuck into bars before, but that was by far the best time I've ever had."

"Well that's ooobbbbviously because it was _me_ who was with you," scoffed Quinn, slurring her words as she smirked at Santana, who winked at her through glassy brown eyes. Both girls reclined onto the pillows beneath them and enjoyed the feeling of alcohol coursing through their veins.

"I'm glad we decided to room together, San," Quinn sighed contentedly, closing her eyes. "I miss hanging out with you."

"Yeah I miss it too, Blondie," Santana murmured. "I miss high school in general."

Quinn had known the Latina long enough to recognize the distinct catch in her words. She rolled onto her side, propping her head up with her arm and leaning on her elbow. "Well _that's_ a lie if I've ever heard one," she smirked, but her voice softened at her next words. "It's Brittany you miss, isn't it."

There was a moment of silence before Santana turned over to face Quinn, and sighed. "Yeah," she stated, but the look in her eyes betrayed her casual tone of voice. Quinn pushed herself up from the comfort of the pillows and walked over to Santana's bed. Settling herself into a sitting position propped against the headrest, she pulled Santana's head onto her lap and began to run her fingers through the Latina's long dark waves.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly, holding her breath while waiting for the answer. There was another momentary pause before Santana nodded, and she smiled as she felt the other girl relax her body into Quinn's.

"Honestly, there's not much to say," Santana said in a subdued tone. "I didn't keep my promise not to cheat, and lost the best thing that's ever happened to me because of it."

Quinn snorted as continued to tangle her hands in Santana's hair. "First of all, making eye contact with another girl is not cheating, San," she said, and went on before the other girl could protest. "Yeah sure, you smiled at a girl who may or may not have been checking you out. So what? You didn't get up or interact with her or even wave. You smiled, had a bit of eye sex, and ended it there. You didn't do anything wrong."

A smile slipped through Santana's frown and danced on her lips at Quinn's words. "It was _not_ eye sex!" she protested, laughing. But the smile was quick to fade as she sighed and leaned her head harder onto Quinn's lap. "Besides, you know that's not why I really ended it."

Quinn nodded knowingly; there wasn't much the Latina could hide from her. "I know, San. But you also know that I disagree with that reason, too."

Santana rolled onto her back, and gazed at the ceiling. "Why?" she asked in a bitter tone. "You know it's true. Brittany deserves someone better than me, someone who will love her, and won't weigh her down."

"Santana, you were not weighing Brit down!" Quinn protested, trying to reason with the stubborn girl. "I _know_ you still love her, and don't try to tell me I'm lying, because those words mean nothing to me. I can see it in your eyes. Besides," she said, in a gentle tone, "Brittany isn't the only one who deserves someone who loves her. You deserve that as much as she does, and by ending it with her, you took that chance away from both of you."

Santana's gaze never left the ceiling, but a tear fell from the corner of her shining eyes and landed on Quinn's leg. Quinn went back to stroking the crying girl's hair, allowing them to sit in silence as the blonde's words hung painfully true in the air.

"What was it like?" Quinn asked quietly, after several unspoken moments had passed.

"Repeat?" Santana asked, slowly.

Quinn took a shaky breath, and posed her question again. "What was it like, being with Brittany?"

Santana went still for a moment, gathering her thoughts before answering the question. "It was like," she murmured, "it was like really feeling everything for the very first time."

"What do you mean?" Quinn asked, her voice soft.

"Like…before I was with Brittany, I was with who knows how many guys, but none of it ever meant anything. I went through the motions, the kisses, the sex, but never felt anything until her. Being with her was like every kiss, every touch, all of it was like I had never experienced any of it before. It was intoxicating, how everything felt new and perfect and just so _right_."

Quinn sat quietly, listening to Santana's words and taking them in. Santana studied the blonde's still face as suspicion crept through her mind.

"Is there a reason you're asking?" she asked, keep her tone nonchalant, though a smile crept onto her face as a light blush spread across Quinn's delicate features.

The blonde girl knew it was useless trying to hide anything from Santana; they had simply known each other too long to keep anything a secret. She moaned to herself, blushing even more at the sound of Santana's laugh.

"I knew it!" the giggling girl said triumphantly, as Quinn buried her face into her hands. "Who knew perfect little Christian Quinn would end up playing for the other team? Priceless! So what's her name?"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "First of all," she stated, "I'd hardly call getting knocked up when you're 16 being a 'perfect little Christian' and secondly, it doesn't matter what her name is because nothing will ever come out of it and she'll never like me back and I probably don't even like her because this is probably just some weird phase, plus I'm drunk which just makes everything worse so there."

"Woah," Santana laughed, her eyes widening at Quinn's outburst. "Calm down, Blondie. I won't make you tell me who it is, but I _will_ say it's not just 'a phase.' I saw the look on your face when I was talking about being with Brit. You're clearly very into whoever this mystery girl is, and I'm just saying…I can help you if you want."

Quinn gaped at Santana, her jaw hanging open. "_You_ can help _me_? And just how do you think you can do that?" she demanded. "That is, if I even want your help!"

"Oh cut the drama queen act, Blondie. Hey girlfriend, I've got no problem with you being Quinn Fabgay from now on. But you should let me help you, seeing as you have zero experience handling _las chicas_. Let me help you, Q. I can see in your eyes how much you like this girl, and at least one of us deserves to be happy, right?"

"Right…" Quinn said warily, a suspicious look on her face. "So how exactly do you plan on teaching me how to come out to this girl, O Wise One?"

"By doing this," Santana grinned wickedly, getting up and pulling out a bottle of champagne. Popping the top off, she took a long sip and handed the bottle over to Quinn, who drank hungrily. They sat together on Santana's bed, passing the bottle back and forth for half an hour, until they were bright-eyed and giggling once again.

"Now that we're back to where we started," Santana slurred, placing the half-empty champagne bottle on the table between the beds, "we can move on."

"Move on to where?" Quinn asked, her eyes half-closed as she smiled at the dark-haired girl. "How is this supposed to help my crush on Rachel?"

"_Rachel_? As in Rachel _Berry_, Rachel? _That_ Rachel?!"

Quinn's eyes popped open guiltily as she realized that her drunken state of mind had allowed the name of her mystery girl to slip out. "It's not _that_ crazy," she grumbled, as Santana rolled around the bed, laughing.

"No, no, I'm not laughing because of that, Blondie," Santana said, wiping her eyes. "But this is just too perfect."

"Why?" Quinn asked, clearly not getting it.

"_Why_? You have to ask?" Santana sighed dramatically. "Becaaaause Rachel yet-to-pop-her-cherry Berry is just as secretly gay as you are. And now, while you process that information," she said as Quinn's eyes widened, "it's time for your first lesson."

"What's lesson?" Quinn asked, still dazed as Santana's words swirled through her alcohol-induced mind.

Santana took one more swig from the champagne bottle before setting it down and licking her lips. "Kiss me," she said, and smiled seductively as her dark eyes locked onto Quinn's.


End file.
